Remembering Hannah ~ The Story

It was 9.30pm on 17th August 1994 when the first pain came. It wasn't really bad and gave me no reason to be concerned. It was half an hour later when I first saw the bleeding that I began to panic. I was only 22 weeks pregnant and very scared. I went straight to casualty where was told not to worry, it was probably a false alarm. I was to be admitted, just so they could keep an eye on me. I knew deep down that it was no false alarm. Our baby was on its way and it was way too soon. `
As the pain became worse, we were told that it looked like we were going to lose our baby and was taken up to the delivery unit. Moments later, after one tiny push, our baby was born, still in its bag of waters. I could see it curled up in a ball.   It was wrapped in a towel and taken out of the room. We were left to cry for the baby we had lost.
There were so many questions that needed answering. Why had this happened? Was our baby a boy or a girl? Could we see our baby? Could we hold it? We really needed to find out. The nurse sat on the bed and held my hand. She started telling us that she didn't want to raise our hopes too much, but when they had broken open the bag of waters, they found our baby was breathing. They waited for half an hour expecting our baby to die, but it kept on struggling to breathe, so they decided they would try and help it. It was a baby girl and weighed 1lb 10ozs.

They quickly wheeled our baby girl into my room so we could have a look at her. She was the most tiny, beautiful baby we had ever seen. She looked too small to be real. She was breathing by herself and was trying to cry. It was more of a squeak then a cry.    We will always remember how she looked at that moment. Our baby would have to be transferred to nearby Exeter Hospital, where they had the equipment to deal with such a tiny baby. They brought our baby in to say Goodbye. This time she had a bonnet on and was attached to a ventilator. We begged them to take good care of our baby as they wheeled her away.
We stayed awake all night trying to choose a name for our baby. We decided on Hannah Louise. We kept wondering what was happening to her. Was she still alive? Was she doing okay? Was she going to make it? A Doctor came and told us that Hannah only had a 20% chance of making it. Normally they won't try to save a baby so early, but because she had seemed so determined, they felt she deserved a chance. They were going to send us up to be with our baby girl.

When we walked into the Special Care Unit and saw how tiny and helpless Hannah looked, we knew that she didn't stand much of a chance. We prayed to God for a miracle. We so desperately wanted our baby girl to make it. She seemed to be doing so well and the Doctor said that she was "Too Good to be true". Going home that night and leaving our tiny baby behind was hard. But we had another child waiting for us and we knew he needed us too. We couldn't sleep though. We were waiting for the 'phone to ring and tell us that something bad had happened. But in the morning the call still hadn't come and we breathed a sigh of relief. We rang the hospital to see how our baby was doing and were told that she was doing very very well and had a good night. We thanked God.
After Breakfast we rushed back to the hospital, and spent the day sat by our babes side, watching, hoping and praying. She was wriggling and kicking her tiny little legs as if to say "Look at me Mummy! I am fighting!"   She really did seem like the miracle we had prayed for! That night we went home and managed to get a bit of sleep but I kept waking with a jump, convinced that the telephone was ringing, convinced that it was bad news. Thankfully it was only in my dreams and once again morning arrived with no phone call. We were straight on phone ringing to check on Baby Hannah. Again she was doing really well. They had been able to reduce the pressures on her Ventilator over night and reduce her oxygen. She was only on 35% which we were told was fantastic for such a tiny one. "That's our girl" we thought with pride in our hearts.

When Hannah came out of her Incubator to be weighed she fitted into the palm of the nurses hand. She had lost weight and was now 1lb 8ozs but we were told it was normal to lose weight after birth so we were all happy. The nurses let us do Hannah's cares. We washed her face and changed her nappy. We were so scared we would hurt her but she didn't seem to mind. She was our brave girl! We spent each day sitting at Hannah's side and each night at home worrying. There were some hard times, like when Hannah needed a new line put in. She would squirm and screw her tiny face up. We are sure that if she didn't have the tube in her mouth she would of been crying. But there was some great times too! Watching little Hannah kick her legs and wave her arms, the joy from the nurses when she did a pooh and watching her wee her bed and need it changing! It all made us smile! It was all made easier knowing that Hannah was doing really well. It really did look as if she was winning her brave fight! For the first time we let our selves believe that maybe, just maybe, she was going to make it!

Our new found hopes were sadly squashed the following morning, Day 6, when we rung to see how Hannah had done. We were so expecting to be told that our angel had done really well but on this occasion we heard that Hannah had been a poorly girl in the night. Her lungs had collapsed and she had a chest drain going into her lungs. Her pressures had been put right up high and she was on 100% oxygen. We hung up and cried and cried. She couldn't leave us now, not now. We raced straight up to see our poorly baby girl. Our sweet little darling looked in so much pain. Her eyes looked all puffy and she was no longer kicking or waving. Her alarms kept going off, resulting in a swarm of nurses rushing to her side. They tried changing her medicine, they tried suction, they tried so much, but nothing seemed to help. Our Baby girl was hanging onto life by a tiny thread that could snap at any moment. I can't describe the pain that I felt, watching the Doctors battle to save my baby, knowing if the alarms ring out again it could be the last time. Not knowing from one second to the next if she was going to make it. It was so very very hard.

Day 7 was just as bad. Hannah seemed to have lost her will to fight. Maybe she was simply hurting too much. Many times that day the Doctors would need to 'bag' her. We stood by watching them 'force' the life back into her, telling her not to give up. All we could do was stand and cry. We knew our little girl was slipping away from us and there was nothing we could do to stop her. We could see the pain in her face and we did not want her to suffer but we so desperately wanted her to live. We stayed with her all night, praying for her and hoping for a miracle again. On the morning of Day 8 we were told that Hannah was stable and that we should go home and get a wash and change of clothes. We blew a kiss to our Hannah and begged her to be a good girl. We were back at the hospital within two hours, yet as we stopped in the car park I felt a chill go through me. I knew something had happened. I could tell.   And as we walked through the doors to her space and saw it covered with screens it confirmed my fears. A Doctor came and held our hand. He started saying how sorry he was and that our baby had gone. She couldn't fight any more. The pain?? Well it was like none I have ever known. I won't try to describe it because I can't, words can't. And as we looked at our sweet baby girl all our hopes, plans and dreams came crashing down around us. We held our sweet sleeping angel and kissed her tiny bruised hands and feet, telling her she could sleep in peace now. Nothing would hurt her again. Goodness we had been desperate to cuddle our baby, but not like this.

Leaving our sweet baby at the hospital was hard. We knew she should of been with us, not alone. And planning to bury her? It all just seemed so un-fair. But we are glad that we had the chance to spend time with Hannah, and we don't regret having her for one moment. Of course we regret having her as early as we did but she is, and always will be, our precious baby daughter.